“I want to know how you got a few days off from mommy duty and managed to get Rip to agree to take care of the kids, because that’s pretty much like witnessing a damn miracle.” He took a breath before continuing. “He straightens his pencils… and now he’s home with a three-year-old doing God knows what… please tell me you have a nanny cam so we can spy on the chaos.”
“You talk a lot.” I frowned.
“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “Because if I don’t, I’ll die of boredom—you do realize this is an accounting firm, right? Do you even understand how boring it is? I’ve resorted to making up stories about the squirrels outside my window—they’re expecting, by the way.”
“Expecting what?”
“Puppies,” he deadpanned. “What do you think?”
I snorted out a laugh. “How would you even know?”
“Was a vet in the past life.” He snapped his fingers impatiently. “Now back to Rip. How did it go down?”
I sighed and closed my laptop. “Ten minutes, and then I need to get back to work.”
“Fifteen.”
“Twelve.”
His smile was wicked. “Deal.” He held out his hand. “I’m Banks, by the way, best friend to the anal man who normally occupies that desk and all-around cheerleader for Team Colby.”
“Well, in that case.” I grinned and leaned forward.
During the story of how Rip and I had come to switch places this week, he interrupted me about a million times and had to use the restroom twice, and by the time I was done, we’d been talking over an hour—or I’d been talking, he’d been interrupting. At least about halfway in, I finally got some of the story of how he’d ended up working with Rip and how they’d become the unlikeliest of friends, which of course made my stomach clench when I thought about Brooks and the bromance he and Rip had shared.
“Wow,” Banks said after a few beats of miraculous silence. “He must really like you, or you are a master negotiator. Which, come to think of it, I’ve seen evidence of when you agreed to tell me the story…”
I rolled my eyes. “I highly doubt Rip likes me. He barely tolerates me. I pretty much drive him to drink on a daily basis, and I dared to order McDonald’s, so…”
“He choked on a fry when he was sixteen, then puked up fries when he was drunk off his ass after a frat party. Hasn’t been able to look at them again without wanting to die a little.” He shrugged like the stories weren’t a big deal. “This is why you both need me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “We do?”
“Yeah, because that’s the type of shit Rip would never admit to, his past indiscretions, failures, imperfections. On the outside all you see is a robot going through the motions, but he actually does know how to have fun. And he wasn’t always this… controlled.” His face flickered as he looked down at his hands briefly. What did he know that I didn’t? I’d been in Rip’s life whether he liked it or not for years.
“Well, I’ve never seen that side of him,” I admitted finally. “Only the know-it-all side or the side that still holds our one horrific date over my head as if he had nothing to do with how bad the night went.”
Banks’s smile grew to epic proportions. “I forgot…” He wagged a finger at me. “You’re the sneak kisser.”
I groaned and contemplated throwing my body against the window in hopes of escape. I still felt embarrassed when I thought back on that moment, his face, my misreading of the situation.
“In my defense, I’d been nervous, had a bit too much to drink, and—wait, why am I defending myself to you? I barely know you! For all I know you could be lying about the best-friend thing. Then again, he did warn me about you before I left, yelling something about some man-whore in his office who has too much time on his hands.” Honestly it was a bit of a blur considering I was so excited to leave the house and get some work done—not that I wanted to actually leave the kids, which ended up being the hard part. I wanted to leave and yet I didn’t. And I still weirdly missed the chaos they brought to my day.
“Classic Rip.” He laughed. “But really, Rip doesn’t need someone to like him, he needs someone to push him. That’s my role here at the office and apparently your role at home. I mean, if I was a chick or into dudes I’d be perfect for him!”
I choked on a laugh. “Can’t wait to tell him you think you’d be a good husband.”
“I’m more like his work husband.” He grinned. “I make sure he eats lunch, takes breaks, and doesn’t yell at people just because they wore red.”
“He hates red,” I admitted.
“Fucking hates it,” he agreed. A soft chuckle slipped out. “He’s a weird one, our Rip.”
I nodded. “Now let me get back to work—” I opened my laptop and waited for him to leave.
Instead he put his feet up on Rip’s desk. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Banks!”